


Actions Speak Louder Than Words

by Batmanfan11



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Geralt is love sick, Hurt/Comfort, In-Game Universe, Jaskier and valdo had hate sex, M/M, My boy is a professor!, Oxenfurt, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vague Universe, Valdo is an ass, he is smart, saying i love you without saying it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24216799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batmanfan11/pseuds/Batmanfan11
Summary: It's the day before classes begin for Professor Dandelion when he is propositioned by Valdo Marx, who has a few choice words to say about his relationship with Geralt. One surprise visit later and Dandelion is reminded how stupid Valdo really is.GIST; Geralt speaks through his actions on how much he loves Dandelion. Also, Fuck Valdo.*Intended universe is In-Game but is so vague that could be read as Netflixverse. Second chapter is the same as first just a name change from Dandelion to Jaskier for those who are thrown off with it*
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Implied Dandelion/Valdo Marx
Comments: 15
Kudos: 155





	1. Dandelion

**Author's Note:**

> I ain't got a clue how I wrote 6k of this shit but honestly, this is probably some of my best work yet. Sorry is characterization is off for Geralt if you're wanting Netflixverse, I just really love in-game Geralt who is stupid in love with Dandelion. If you want to read the story with "Jaskier" instead, click on chapter 2.
> 
> EDIT: I should probably explain that the crow head turns into a real crow and then dissipates when it's done. That's an in-game reference for Wircher 3.

“If there are no further questions, I believe this meeting is adjourned.”

A breath of relief flooded the room as the professors quickly started to pack up their notes and break off into their niche circles of friends and acquaintances of similar majors. Dandelion was no different, quickly placing his carefully written notes into his satchel. It was starting to get late outside and Dandelion was looking forward to ending it with some good alcohol and one last sweep over his syllabus and course content. Maybe even getting into a few more chapters of his recently discovered novel. Or he could make himself a warm bath and relax under the last rays of an autumn sun. Either way, Dandelion just wanted to get out this crowded room.

As he stood up, however, a figure appeared next to him initiating the beginning of conversation. As much as Dandelion would love to talk to his colleagues, there is only so much of him he can give out before he needs to recharge. But who was he to deny a conversation with the dean?

“Hello Master Rowan, what can I do for you?” Dandelion stated.

“Master Dandelion, it’s so good to see you on this semesters board of educators. It’s been some time since we last had you and the students have missed your tutorship.” Rowan remarked, his hands clasped in front of himself in a professional manner. His long face and deep wrinkles accentuated his kind eyes and dedication to the practice of arts. Master Rowan was a fine instructor, a generous man, and a true patriot to the history and upkeep to the arts.

Everyone wanted to impress him.

“Thank you, sir.” Dandelion replied. He placed his satchel over his opposite shoulder and held tight to the strap in front of him. It was always nerve wrecking speaking to your boss, especially someone he looked up to quite a lot.

“Now, I don’t mean to be crude,” Rowan began much to Dandelion’s already splintering social meter, “but I feel like I must remind you. There is to be no tom foolery on campus. You have a nack for getting into situations that you shouldn’t have been in to begin with. Is that understood, Master Dandelion?” Rowan’s voice left no room for denial. It was formulated after years of practice. It rang with authority and companionship.

Dandelion gave a weak chuckle, his hands feeling a little sweaty as he twisted the strap.

“Me? Trouble? I think you have the wrong person, sir!” Dandelion joked.

Rowan raised his eyebrow.

Dandelion cleared his throat when he realized he wasn’t going to get his intended reaction and averted his eyes to his feet. “Yes, sir, I understand.” Then Dandelion started to snicker, quickly pointing his eyes back up to the dean. “But you must admit, it was rather funny seeing Professor Ulric trying to shoo away the birds that were always present during his outside lectures.”

Master Rowan exhaled through his nose, seeing this was the closest he was going to get to Dandelion agreeing with him. He looked pointingly at Dandelion before placing a hand down gently on Dandelion’s shoulder.

“You are a fine instructor to the campus, Master Dandelion. Don’t do something stupid to get you kicked out or on the bad side of other instructors.” Rowan gave a smirk. “Even if it was kind of funny.” Dandelion gave an encouraging smile back to his superior.

“Thank you, Master Rowan. And I promise, no tom foolery!”

“That’s a good man,” Rowan slapped his shoulder in good faith. “I know you’ll make the university proud. That is all. Goodnight, Master Dandelion.”

Dandelion gave a head bow. “Good night, Master Rowan.” He quickly scurried out of the meeting room and beelined to his quarters.

No matter what kind of good terms one can be with their boss, it is always a little scary to talk to them one on one. Especially when they held your entire employment and paycheck in the palm of their hand. Not like Master Rowan would abuse his power over any of the professors or students at Oxenfurt but the knowledge of the possibility alone can put anyone on edge. While Dandelion had never been on Rowan’s bad side, he feared it like nothing else and no amount of self confidence could mask that fear.

Dandelion had chosen to live on campus during the fall semester, so his room wasn’t far off from the meeting room. It was pushed into the front corner at the front of the university, away from the student housing with the classrooms situated in the middle. Dandelion was on good standing with the university so was able to pick first which room would be his for the fall. A cozy room with enough space for a large bed, a vanity set, a desk cabinet with enough room for his instruments, and a sturdy bathtub with the added bonus of a hand pump. The benefits of picking first is being able to pick the rooms on the ground floor. No climbing stairs after a day on your feet, no thank you. Dandelion’s room only had one neighbor on his left as his room was closet to the outer wall of the university, separating the campus from the city.

Dandelion entered the breezeway that connected the room’s door to the outside and stopped in his tracks. He felt one hand ball into a fist while another held onto his satchel. He grounded his teeth and plastered on his fakest smile.

“ _Valdo_! What a surprise! Whatever are you doing in front of _my_ door?” Dandelion asked as he stepped with heavy feet toward his rival.

Valdo was casually leaning against the wooden door, open notebook in his hands. He glanced up at Dandelion as he came closer but didn’t change his posture. His coy demeanor only set Dandelion’s rage aflame. How _dare_ this man! The audacity of him!

“Hello to you too, Julian.” Valdo’s silky tone grated Dandelion’s resolve even more. He stopped just inches from Valdo and glared down at him. Valdo barely gave him direct eye contact let alone acknowledging his entire presence breathing down his neck.

“What do you want?” Dandelion spoke harshly.

“What?” Valdo finally leaned off the door and stood up straight to look at Dandelion. “I can’t simply come by a fellow professor’s room and share an amiable bit of conversation? Maybe even a drink or two?” Valdo lifted one perfect, too perfect, eyebrow at him. Dandelion knew damn well what he was implying, and he wasn’t about to fall for it. In his younger years, he would have begrudgedly agreed to a roll in the sheets with Valdo to let out some steam. A bit of hate sex was always fun and while he hated Valdo largely, he wasn’t below himself from stating he was good in bed. And he was very good. But he wasn’t a young man anymore and this wasn’t a scene he wished to participate in.

“The answer is ‘No’, Valdo. Now, get away from my door.” Dandelion spoke calmly. He really didn’t want to start a shouting match this close to evening.

Valdo sighed through his nose and moved away from the door.

“You’re making a mistake, Julian. You know you won’t be able to resist me for the whole semester. I know you, as much as I hate to say it.” Valdo snapped his notebook shut with one hand. Dandelion ignored him as he started to pull out his room key. He ignored him the best he could.

“It’s that Witcher, isn’t?”

Dandelion turned around sharply. “Excuse me?”

“That Witcher you’ve shallowed yourself low enough to hang around with. I know you’re a hopeless romantic, Julian, but even I know that Witchers don’t feel. You’re only setting yourself up to getting hurt. And when you do realize, you’ll come crawling back to me to get what you need.”

Dandelions stepped away from the door and crowded Valdo against the far wall, his face dangerously feral, his teeth baring.

“You do not get to speak of him that way. How dare you even try to insinuate he is anything lower than the nobelest of men. Something the likes of you would never understand. Geralt and I are of no business to you. So, you’d best keep his name out of your mouth if you know what’s good for you.”

“Or what, Julian.” Sneered back. “You’re gonna sick your Witcher on me? Hit me with your lute you barely know how to play? Or how about send that old halfling after me? Hm?” Valdo lifted his head in a vicious turn and looked Dandelion straight in his eyes. “You’re not gonna do shit, Julian. Or else you risk being kicked out.”

Dandelion let in a sharp breath through his nose.

“That’s right. Master Rowan had to set you straight while everyone was leaving the meeting today to make sure you did not fuck up at his respected establishment. The only reason you have a place on the board is because you probably let half of the superiors fuck you into their sheets.” Valdo bared his teeth into a twisted smile.

Dandelion took a deep breath.

“You’re pathetic, Valdo.” He backed away and went back to his door. “Leave me alone.” Valdo was still up against the far wall by the time he opened the door. He didn’t dare turn his head as he shut the door. As soon as he locked it, he jumped back from the pounding on the wood.

“You’ll come crawling back to me, Julian! Doesn’t matter how long it takes, you’ll be coming back!”

“Screw you,” Dandelion exclaimed. He added, “And Zoltan is a dwarf!”

He heard a scoff behind the door and Dandelion’s anger started to recede. Dandelion laid his forehead against the wooden door, listening carefully for Valdo’s retreating footsteps. Once he knew he was gone, he let out a deep sigh and let the tension in his jaw lessen and his shoulders drop.

If he was drained during the meeting, he was bone-deep exhausted now. The sun was already setting but his mood wasn’t. No matter, no point in letting his hatred for Valdo and his audacity to ask for a quick fuck was going to ruin his night. He dropped his satchel down by his desk and went to collapse on his bed. He kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his doublet. It wasn’t too cold, so he was going to let himself get comfortable in just his undershirt. After a few more breaths, Dandelion got up to light the candles in his room before the light from outside totally disappeared. He was debating on what to do next as he lit the candles.

A bath seemed nice right now. With scented salts and flower petals and sweet-smelling oils.

And some company. Company with golden eyes and a rich voice. Dandelion let out a love-sick sigh as he lit the last candle that subsequently blew out the candle. He chuckled and lit it once more. He rolled up his sleeves and got started pumping water into the tub. When it was a reasonable height, and Dandelion had collected a bit of sweat on his brow (and let off a bit of steam from his encounter with Valdo), he worked up a gentle fire in an enclosed pocket under the tub. He closed the small metal door leading to the pocket to keep the smoke from entering the room and trapping the heat enclosed under the tub. He picked from a few bottles of oils and scattered a few petals into the water. Just as he thought the water was finally warm enough, he heard a knock at his door.

At this point, no one should be getting visitors.

The only one he could think of that would be visiting him this late would be Valdo.

He scrunched up his face and slipped his doublet off his shoulders and thrown it on the bed. He called behind him, “Fuck off, Valdo!” He was getting ready to unlace his trousers when he heard a voice that was definitely not Valdo’s.

“Well then, guess I’ll just take my Nilfgardian Wine and be on my way.”

Dandelion had never raced to the door faster, almost tripping over his own ankles. He swung open the door to reveal his dream come true. His knight. His muse. His Witcher.

“Geralt! What are you doing here?!” Dandelion all but pulled his smirking Witcher inside his room and shut the door behind him. Geralt stood confidently with his bottle in one hand as he looked at his disheveled bard. He let out a low chuckle as he was tackled by a pair of arms wrapping themselves around his neck and a body pressed against his. He wound his arms around Dandelion and hummed as they squeezed each other just the slightest bit tighter. They turned their heads at the same time to meet each other in the middle for a quick kiss.

Dandelion’s smile only grew.

“Well,” Geralt started, “That’s one hell of a ‘hello’”

“Oh, shut up.” Dandelion pulled his arms back to rest on his chest but remained in Geralt’s space. “What are you doing in Oxenfurt? Shouldn’t you be on your way toward Kaer Morhen for the winter?” Dandelion asked.

“Well, you see, I just happened to be in the area when I got word from a few barmaids that the famous ‘traveling bard’ had returned for a semester. I knew it was you but I just wanted to make sure.”

Dandelion didn’t believe him for a second.

“You just _happened_ to be in the area the night before my semester begins? Really? Have you ever been able to lie to me, Geralt? And with a bottle of wine that you know is one of my favorites and is not cheap? You must think me a fool, dear heart.”

Geralt chuckled again and leant into Dandelion’s space, his arms never leaving his waist and he rested his forehead against Dandelion’s. Dandelion laughed and wrapped his arms around his neck and rested his hands in his hair, pushing his fingers into the strands and running against the scalp. Geralt gave an appreciative hum in return to the affection.

“A man can try.”

Dandelion smiled even wider and brushed his nose against Geralt’s. Then it dawned on him his bath was waiting. He retreated from his embrace, taking the wine from Geralt. He turned around to inspect the date and raced to his side table to his wine opener.

“Well, since you came _all_ this way and brought such _fine_ wine, you might as well help me drink it. The glasses are in the cabinets above my desk.” Dandelion commented as he pointed toward his desk. He started working on uncorking the bottle as Geralt went to retrieve two glasses. He came back just as Dandelion uncorked the bottle and took a quick smell to the tip. He ‘mmm’ -ed.

“You really do know me, darling. Join me for a bath?” He gestured toward the steaming bath in the other end of the room. He could tell that Geralt did not come here after a contract but was probably still in need of a relaxing bath. Dirt and grime in general had a habit of sticking to Geralt on the Path.

“Can’t say no, can I?” Geralt asked teasingly as Dandelion began to pour the wine into their glasses.

“Of course not.”

Once poured, Dandelion brought the bottle and his filled glass over to the tub, gently placing both on the floor to disrobe. Geralt sat on the bed leisurely and took a sip of his wine, watching him. This was not the first time he had watched Dandelion undress and definitely not the most sexy but he enjoyed the process none the less. Dandelion caught his wondering eyes as he bent back up from dropping his pants and underclothes. He raised a teasing eyebrow and turned around, sauntered over to the man. Geralt grinned and took another sip of his wine.

“Make yourself useful and take off my socks since you’re so keen on eyeing me up like a sweet roll.” Dandelion said, lifting one pointed foot on Geralt’s thigh. Geralt exhaled through his nose and set his wine glass down on the bedside table. He put both hands on either side of Dandelion’s thigh and squeezed just the slightest as he moved them downward to his sock. He let his fingers reach around the calf to untie the ribbon holding them up. He pulled them off then in a slow motion, letting one hand cup the back of his calf. He slowly brought his head down to give his knee a kiss as he took the whole sock off.

He was rewarded with a weak _pop_ to the head.

“You are the biggest tease on this side of the continent,” Dandelion spoke a little shaken by the tenderness of Geralt’s movements. Geralt laughed against his knee before smacking his calf to move it off him. Dandelion did so and gave him the other foot. Geralt did not repeat his actions and quickly took this one off, though still gave his knee a kiss. Dandelion took back both legs and turned on the ball of his foot to move back to the tub.

“You need to get undressed if you wish to join me. And you are joining me.” Dandelion picked up his wine glass and gently lowered himself into the vat of steaming water. He could already feel the steam opening up the pores on his face. He took a sip of wine and made an appreciative hum.

“You really did get the good stuff. Gods, I am a lucky man.” He took another sip.

He did not need to turn his head to know Geralt was undressing, he could feel his looming presence behind him. If this were another scene, he probably would have turned around and sucked him dry before letting him enter the tub. But he needed his voice for lectures tomorrow and really didn’t want to mix the after taste of cum with his wine, so instead he scooted forward to make room for Geralt. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder for balance as Geralt glided in behind him, opening his legs wide to accompany the man between them. Settled, Dandelion leaned back on his chest and looked upward.

Geralt gave him a kiss to the temple and took a sip of his own wine.

Dandelion could not have asked for a better night.

“So,” Geralt began, “do I have to call you Professor Dandelion now?”

Dandelion gave into a joyous laugh and brought both his knees up to curl against Geralt.

“Depends on what kind of scene we want to set up for tonight.”

An arm wrapped itself around Dandelion’s torso to keep him in place against Geralt.

“But no,” Dandelion added. He took another sip and let his hand dip into the water to interlock their hands. “I don’t even think I want my students calling me that. I’ll most likely stay with Master Dandelion. Professor Dandelion will just be on paper for legal reasons and what not.”

“Hmm. You didn’t tell me what classes you’re teaching.”

“I didn’t?” Dandelion questioned. Usually he would have been all about telling anyone within ear shot what kind of professor he was, but he usually wasn’t running a cabaret while teaching either.

“Sorry, dear heart I suppose it must have slipped my mind. Well, this year I’m teaching two subjects, 6 classes total. Mostly juniors with a few seniors. Historical Implications in Poems and Courtroom Etiquette. Nothing too hard, I would say but fun classes with the right students.”

Geralt raised a brow at him.

“Courtroom etiquette? What will you be teaching, how not to get caught after seducing half of the lord’s court and employees?”

Dandelion slapped his shoulder. “Very funny, Geralt. No, I will be teaching how to greet lords, how to read the room, when it is your time and place to begin, how to dress, how the different fractions view respect. You know, people stuff. I’m good at that.”

“Well, can’t argue with that. You’ve always been good with people.”

Geralt took another sip of wine and grabbed Dandelion’s misplaced hand to interlock them again. Dandelion smiled and turned his head to kiss his pectoral. Geralt can be very needy when he wanted to be. Dandelion went to take a sip from his glass.

“Well, everyone expect Valdo Marx.”

He choked on his wine. Worried, Geralt set down his glass harshly against the floor and patted Dandelion on the back. He also took his glass away and set it down. Dandelion rubbed his throat as he cleared up his misguided sip. Of course, that name would come up tonight. He thought back to his interaction with him earlier today and scowled to himself.

“Are you ok?” Geralt asked as Dandelion stopped coughing. Dandelion cleared his throat once more and turned his torso around to calm Geralt. He placed his palms on his chest and pushed him back against the rim of the tub.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. See, nothing wrong. Still talking. In fact, could continue talking for the rest of the night if I so desired. Like about my employer or the history of the university or OH!” Dandelion cut himself off, “about my syllabus! Oh, it’s a good one I’ll tell you that. I –“ He was cut off against by a large hand covering his mouth.

Dandelion always forgot how much bigger Geralt was compared to the average man. Dandelion was no string bean little boy, Geralt was just a large man. He blushed at the stare he got from Geralt.

“You’re rambling.”

“Ah aways wam’le” Dandelion said. (I always ramble)

Geralt took his hand away and encircled Dandelion so he could not escape his space. Dandelion subconsciously turned on his side and let himself be cradled in Geralts arm and rested his head on his shoulder. He felt fingertips run down his spine and the sides of his arms. Dandelion could fall asleep in his embrace.

“Did something happen?”

And there it was. Dandelion dramatically sighed against Geralt’s neck, making him shiver.

“Reading me like a book, huh?” Dandelion let his finger tab aimlessly on his chest before sliding upwards to wrap around his neck, pushing his upper half out of the water and resting his head far enough on his shoulder so Geralt wouldn’t see his face. He knew better than to lie to Geralt but he didn’t want to ruin the tender moment they created. Being a person who loved to talk, Dandelion was also an expert on when not to talk.

Even if someone wanted him to.

“It wasn’t important.”

“It almost made you choke on your wine. Something happened. Did he hurt you?” He felt Geralt’s grip tightening around him.

Dandelion twirled a piece of hair between his fingers.

“No.” He answered quietly. He felt ashamed for ruining their night with his unfathomable hatred for Valdo.

Geralt let out and deep ‘Hmm’. “Did he say something?”

“Nothing intelligent enough to repeat.” Dandelion replied quickly. He pulled himself away from Geralt’s neck and pushed himself up, so he was looking down at Geralt. His hands rested on the tops of his shoulder and Geralt’s hands wrapped loosely around Dandelion’s waist.

“But it hurt you.”

Dandelion averted his eyes, his mouth turned down into a grimace.

“Like I said, it’s not worth repeating. He’s a stupid man with stupid ideas and a stupid voice that can’t carry with a stupid instrument he can’t play correctly. He’s a dunce with money.”

Dandelion closed his eyes and exhaled loudly through his nose.

“Let’s forget about him. Tonight’s about us.” He reopened his eyes and sunk back into the water, relaxing against Geralt once more. “Thank you for coming tonight. It means a lot to me that you came. You didn’t have to, though. I understand that our lives have very different paths and I’m willing to accommodate for that fact. You know that.” He rose his head up and gave Geralt’s neck a kiss.

“I love you.”

Dandelion felt the water shift around him as Geralt sat up in the bath and shifted him to also sitting up. He blinked at Geralt’s unreadable face. Then his felt his hands leaving Dandelion’s body and move to the chain of his medallion. He lifted it over his head and held it in front of Dandelion, wolf head gleaming in the candlelight.

“What” Dandelion stuttered, “what are you doing?”

Geralt averted his eyes back into the water before looking back at Dandelion’s unwavering eyes.

“I want you to wear this. At least until I come back to get you when the semester is over or when you want to give it back. Just, wear it for me,” after a thought, “please.”

Tenderness and awe were the only emotions Dandelion could identify as he looked at that medallion. The level of trust, earnest and real trust Geralt was showing him by giving his medallion was like being given the control over a whole kingdom. Dandelion didn’t know what to feel but he knew he had to react, as he was shocked still by Geralt’s request. He didn’t wish to spook the poor soul.

He lowered his head. He felt the cold metal glide by his ears and then rest on his neck. He lifted up to look Geralt in the eye, but Geralt wasn’t look him back in the eye. Geralt’s eyes were blown, pupils dilated wide and his expression soften. He was looking at the whole image of Dandelion, vulnerable, beautiful, and wearing a piece of Geralt. Dandelion could feel the weight of the wolf head resting against his chest. Every breath of air he took felt different, every slight movement felt purposeful. He felt like a piece of himself had just been created.

And all because of a piece of jewelry.

Two hands reached out to crowd Dandelion’s face, each hand gently cupping warm cheeks. Dandelion couldn’t suppress the toothy grin that developed or the water glint in his eyes or the joy bubbling in his chest. He let himself be dragged into a wonderful kiss, his hands gripping onto Geralt’s hands. He let himself be peppered with kisses as a giggle erupted from his throat. A stray tear ran down his cheek and Geralt wiped it away with his thumb.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

Dandelion had no further thoughts of Valdo and his cruel remarks. He let himself be swept away into the warm embrace of his lover, of his best friend. Their wine was slowly drunk, their bodies and hair scrubbed clean, and their sheets entangled around naked limbs. The only thing worn to bed was Geralt’s medallion, resting peacefully against Dandelion’s heart.

Geralt woke to a silently fretting Dandelion. With a comb in one hand and the other trying desperately to button his doublet. He could have lain there longer, watching him ‘tut’ around the room getting ready for his first day of classes, which started at sunrise, but he did have one last parting gift. He slowly rose, letting the thin sheet covering his torso slip down to the angle on his waist. He cracked his back, which alerted Dandelion that he was up.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear heart, did I wake you? Go back to sleep, I can wake you up when I leave. You need the rest if you wish to make it to Kaer Morhen in time for the first snow fall.” Dandelion, through his hustle and bustle, came over to Geralt to try and push him back down into the bed. But he wasn’t moving. Instead, he grabbed Dandelion’s wrist and pulling him to a kiss, which lasted longer than both of them intended but not unwanted. Dandelion pulled back with a _smak_ and smiled as Geralt followed his lips.

“And you call me the horn dog.” He straightened his back and pulled Geralt’s wild hair out of his eyes and brushed a few behind his ears.

“Because you are,” Geralt remarked, giving a surprising smack to Dandelion’s bottom.

A gentle pull of his hair was his punishment. “Tease. I have class to get to today. I can’t be late the first day of class, especially as the professor.” He walked back over to his vanity set and went about putting on the finished touches to his normal hygiene. A bit of lip balm for the chill in the air and a gentle cologne on his neck. He was already dressed; he had figured out his outfit a week in advance.

What can he say, he always got excited to teach.

All in all, he was ready to leave. Now he just needed to wait for the appropriate time to head to class and set up before actual class time. Dandelion checked his satchel once more, making sure he had enough copies of his syllabus, his notes, his class plan for today, a few coins for lunch. He was too distracted to hear Geralt getting dressed behind him until he had two hands on his shoulders, slowly rubbing the tension away. He dropped them the moment of contact.

“I know, I know. Stop stressing. The first day is always a little nerve wrecking, you know. I want them to like me so bad. I mean, I know they will but there’s always the off chance that they won’t. I just hate the idea of a student not liking me. I-“ He was spun around and cut off.

“Dandelion, they will love you. When do they not?”

Dandelion wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist and hugged him tightly but meaningfully.

“Ugh. I know. I just got to get through the first day then everything is a breeze afterwards.” A pause. “I’m going to miss you, you know that?”

Geralt’s arms wrap themselves tightly around his shoulders and rubbed them up and down to sooth them.

“I know.” A pause. “But you won’t be missing as much as usual, I think.”

Dandelion pulled away, looking Geralt in the face like he just said the stupidest string of words he ever heard, which he did. “What are you talking about?”

Geralt pulled away and reached into his pouch on his hip. Dandelion could see the tension in his hand as he pulled whatever it was out of it. Dandelion waited with batted breath. In Geralt’s hand was a crystal crow skull, hauntingly beautiful and shinned to perfection. It was a beautiful piece of craftmanship, but Dandelion was no fool. At least, not too much of a fool. He knew that skull belonged to Yennefer, or at least the aesthetic did. Dandelion looked back at Geralt a little confused.

“This is beautiful, Geralt, but isn’t this more of Yennefer’s style? Dear god, are you regifting me something she gave you? Did you steal this!? Geralt, I know Yen and I are friends but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t kill me if she found me with something of hers. I like to be on her good side.”

“Dandelion, shut up. I did not steal this nor am I regifting it. I,” Geralt averted his eyes to side, “I bought it from her and had her enchant it for a specific reason.”

“Such as?”

“Letter delivery.”

Then it clicked. And the water came right back into Dandelion’s eyes and a hand went straight over his medallion, a warm feeling spreading through his toes. Geralt had given him the means of communication over their separation.

“Did you get me a carrier crow?” Dandelion asked, completely full of adoration.

“I only got one, so we have to be careful with it. It’s designed to be able to fly long distances and through any kind of weather, we just need to find spots where the crow can land and dissipate without someone else getting our letters.”

Dandelion took the crow from his palm and held it to the light of a candle. It shone in beautiful rays of blue and purple and it was smooth to the touch. It was a solid weight, a good paper weight size, but it wasn’t clunky or gaudy. It was perfect. Dandelion threw himself at Geralt in a fit of laugher and smothered his face in playful kisses. Geralt returned the favor in one deep sensual kiss. One that makes you weak in the knees and a little light headed. When they pulled apart, Dandelion rested his forehead against Geralt’s and another fit of laughter left his throat.

“Thank you, my darling. This is a wonderful gift. You are so thoughtful. Now,” Dandelion pulled away, “teach me how to use this.”

For the rest of the early morning, Dandelion and Geralt leaned over the crystal and went through the procedures of turning it into a crow, where to tie the letter (or letters as Dandelion interjected), how much weight it can hold, how long it will take back and forth (Geralt guessed about two days but they’ll test that out once he is settled back at Kaer Morhen) and other small details. Dandelion was so distracted by the prospect of sending and receiving letters from Geralt during the fall that he almost missed his cue to leave. He still had a classroom to warm up and it’s awfully terrible teaching in a cold classroom.

“Shit, I got to go.” Dandelion said, going to grab his satchel until it was swiped from under his hand. Instead, he was given one gloven hand to hold as Geralt swung the bag over his shoulder. Dandelion reddened in the ears and picked up his lute. They left the room in compatible silence.

Dandelion kept looking over at Geralt, who was peacefully out of place in this big university.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just,” Dandelion paused, “I never had a university sweetheart. I was always the one holding other people’s books and instruments, never the other way around. Feels nice to be on this end. Thank you.”

He gave Geralt a chaste kiss to the cheek and walked in silence until he got to his classroom. Dandelion unlocked the door, never breaking from Geralt’s grip and walked into the medium sized lecture hall. He was definitely going to need to start a fire soon. Those old wooden seats were terrible when cold. But before he could even get started on that, he heard the sounds of wood blocks being placed in the hearth and a sign being used to light them. Geralt had taken initiative to start a fire.

Dandelion walked over to him to take his satchel off his shoulder and a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you. These lecture halls are dreadful when it’s freezing. Some classrooms can’t even be done if it’s too cold. Try strumming a lute when your heads are stiff from the cold. Ugh, terrible time.” He went to his desk and started taking everything out he was going to need for class. He started to hum, filtering through the classroom, straightening chairs, wiping off some dust with a spare rag if it didn’t meet up to his standards, and over all checking the room out. This was his Historical Implications class, so he didn’t have to move anything around unless he wanted study groups or group projects. When he came back down from the top of his classroom, he stood in the middle of it and turned to Geralt.

“Would you do me a favor?”

“Depends, what is it?”

“Could you sit at the top of the classroom and tell me if you can hear my voice?”

“I can always hear your voice. Enhanced hearing, remember?”

“Oh right. Well, do it anyway and just tell me if I sound like I’m shouting or something. That’ll probably be the right volume for human ears.” He tugged on his ear lobe for emphasis. And Geralt did just that, walking up the stairs and taking a seat at the top.

“Hello class! And welcome!”

“Louder!”

“HELLO CLASS!”

“Oh lord.” Geralt mumbled.

“I heard that, young man!” Dandelion yelled back at him. Geralt rolled his eyes.

“A little softer!”

Dandelion cleared his throat and projected his voice louder than the first but softer than the second.

“Hello class! And Welcome to Historical Implications in Poetry!”

“That’s good!” Geralt said back. Dandelion gave him a thumbs up. Geralt took that as his cue to come back down. He took two steps at a time so he can get to Dandelion quicker and stood right in front of him. Dandelion took that as his cue for a farewell hug and kiss. And he did just that, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and giving into the sweet kiss of a bittersweet farewell.

Their goodbye was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“It’s time,” Dandelion whispered.

“So it is.”

“Be safe, my love.”

“Always.”

And then Geralt left and Dandelion started class, the nervousness of before melting away as he remembered every face, every name, every character. He found out that he and Geralt did find the right volume for the classroom, which made Dandelion joyful. He was looking forward to this class and the next and the one after that. Each class that came held bright eyed students, deafferenting ideas, wonderful perspectives, and eye-popping aesthetics. His favorite part of teaching was the students and the potential they held.

But, of course, every day has its ending.

And his was beginning to look like de ja vu.

“What the fuck are you doing back here? I told you to fuck off, Valdo.”

Valdo, all cozied up back at his door with a smug smile and a more than revealing top on. This man just wouldn’t get the hint.

“Don’t be like that, Julian. You know I’m only offering a bit of physical pleasure. No strings attached.” Dandelion balled his fists in fury. If this was how his semester was going to be, sooner or later the university was going to be a professor short, or two if he had to make a run for it. But then something stopped him. The shifting of his shirt, the metal medallion moving against his skin. He didn’t feel as angry anymore.

He calmly walked over to Valdo. Valdo smiled, thinking he got what he wanted.

“See, that wasn’t so bad. Though, I will have to punish you for being so awful to me yesterday.” Dandelion’s eyebrow twitched but his smile never faltered. He got to his door, put a gentle hand on Valdo’s shoulder, and shoved him flat on his ass away from it.

“As if you could ever compare to the size, girth, and stamina of my Witcher’s cock. Now, take your pathetic limp dick away from me before I curb stomp your teeth into the ground. And before you think I’m scared of you telling on me to my superiors, remember that I’m the one in contact with not one, but four Witchers, two powerful sorceresses, a child of the elder blood, and some very loyal friends. Now go buy yourself a lady of the night and fuck off.” Dandelion opened the door, closed it, and locked it. He stayed silent as he heard Valdo retreat.

That night, Dandelion wrote two letters to Geralt. He wanted to give him time to get to the keep before sending them off. He laid in bed in his underclothes and fiddled with his medallion, falling more and more in love with the man of his dreams.

Couldn’t fall in love, bah!

Geralt knew how to love greater and louder than anyone he had ever known.

Dandelion fell asleep dreaming of their reunion.


	2. Jaskier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS THE SAME STORY JUST WITH "JASKIER" INSTEAD OF "DANDELION"
> 
> I just used the "replace" key in word so if you see a stray "Dandelion" some where, sorry! 
> 
> ENJOY

“If there are no further questions, I believe this meeting is adjourned.”

A breath of relief flooded the room as the professors quickly started to pack up their notes and break off into their niche circles of friends and acquaintances of similar majors. Jaskier was no different, quickly placing his carefully written notes into his satchel. It was starting to get late outside and Jaskier was looking forward to ending it with some good alcohol and one last sweep over his syllabus and course content. Maybe even getting into a few more chapters of his recently discovered novel. Or he could make himself a warm bath and relax under the last rays of an autumn sun. Either way, Jaskier just wanted to get out this crowded room.

As he stood up, however, a figure appeared next to him initiating the beginning of conversation. As much as Jaskier would love to talk to his colleagues, there is only so much of him he can give out before he needs to recharge. But who was he to deny a conversation with the dean?

“Hello Master Rowan, what can I do for you?” Jaskier stated.

“Master Jaskier, it’s so good to see you on this semesters board of educators. It’s been some time since we last had you and the students have missed your tutorship.” Rowan remarked, his hands clasped in front of himself in a professional manner. His long face and deep wrinkles accentuated his kind eyes and dedication to the practice of arts. Master Rowan was a fine instructor, a generous man, and a true patriot to the history and upkeep to the arts.

Everyone wanted to impress him.

“Thank you, sir.” Jaskier replied. He placed his satchel over his opposite shoulder and held tight to the strap in front of him. It was always nerve wrecking speaking to your boss, especially someone he looked up to quite a lot.

“Now, I don’t mean to be crude,” Rowan began much to Jaskier’s already splintering social meter, “but I feel like I must remind you. There is to be no tom foolery on campus. You have a nack for getting into situations that you shouldn’t have been in to begin with. Is that understood, Master Jaskier?” Rowan’s voice left no room for denial. It was formulated after years of practice. It rang with authority and companionship.

Jaskier gave a weak chuckle, his hands feeling a little sweaty as he twisted the strap.

“Me? Trouble? I think you have the wrong person, sir!” Jaskier joked.

Rowan raised his eyebrow.

Jaskier cleared his throat when he realized he wasn’t going to get his intended reaction and averted his eyes to his feet. “Yes, sir, I understand.” Then Jaskier started to snicker, quickly pointing his eyes back up to the dean. “But you must admit, it was rather funny seeing Professor Ulric trying to shoo away the birds that were always present during his outside lectures.”

Master Rowan exhaled through his nose, seeing this was the closest he was going to get to Jaskier agreeing with him. He looked pointingly at Jaskier before placing a hand down gently on Jaskier’s shoulder.

“You are a fine instructor to the campus, Master Jaskier. Don’t do something stupid to get you kicked out or on the bad side of other instructors.” Rowan gave a smirk. “Even if it was kind of funny.” Jaskier gave an encouraging smile back to his superior.

“Thank you, Master Rowan. And I promise, no tom foolery!”

“That’s a good man,” Rowan slapped his shoulder in good faith. “I know you’ll make the university proud. That is all. Goodnight, Master Jaskier.”

Jaskier gave a head bow. “Good night, Master Rowan.” He quickly scurried out of the meeting room and beelined to his quarters.

No matter what kind of good terms one can be with their boss, it is always a little scary to talk to them one on one. Especially when they held your entire employment and paycheck in the palm of their hand. Not like Master Rowan would abuse his power over any of the professors or students at Oxenfurt but the knowledge of the possibility alone can put anyone on edge. While Jaskier had never been on Rowan’s bad side, he feared it like nothing else and no amount of self confidence could mask that fear.

Jaskier had chosen to live on campus during the fall semester, so his room wasn’t far off from the meeting room. It was pushed into the front corner at the front of the university, away from the student housing with the classrooms situated in the middle. Jaskier was on good standing with the university so was able to pick first which room would be his for the fall. A cozy room with enough space for a large bed, a vanity set, a desk cabinet with enough room for his instruments, and a sturdy bathtub with the added bonus of a hand pump. The benefits of picking first is being able to pick the rooms on the ground floor. No climbing stairs after a day on your feet, no thank you. Jaskier’s room only had one neighbor on his left as his room was closet to the outer wall of the university, separating the campus from the city.

Jaskier entered the breezeway that connected the room’s door to the outside and stopped in his tracks. He felt one hand ball into a fist while another held onto his satchel. He grounded his teeth and plastered on his fakest smile.

“ _Valdo_! What a surprise! Whatever are you doing in front of _my_ door?” Jaskier asked as he stepped with heavy feet toward his rival.

Valdo was casually leaning against the wooden door, open notebook in his hands. He glanced up at Jaskier as he came closer but didn’t change his posture. His coy demeanor only set Jaskier’s rage aflame. How _dare_ this man! The audacity of him!

“Hello to you too, Julian.” Valdo’s silky tone grated Jaskier’s resolve even more. He stopped just inches from Valdo and glared down at him. Valdo barely gave him direct eye contact let alone acknowledging his entire presence breathing down his neck.

“What do you want?” Jaskier spoke harshly.

“What?” Valdo finally leaned off the door and stood up straight to look at Jaskier. “I can’t simply come by a fellow professor’s room and share an amiable bit of conversation? Maybe even a drink or two?” Valdo lifted one perfect, too perfect, eyebrow at him. Jaskier knew damn well what he was implying, and he wasn’t about to fall for it. In his younger years, he would have begrudgedly agreed to a roll in the sheets with Valdo to let out some steam. A bit of hate sex was always fun and while he hated Valdo largely, he wasn’t below himself from stating he was good in bed. And he was very good. But he wasn’t a young man anymore and this wasn’t a scene he wished to participate in.

“The answer is ‘No’, Valdo. Now, get away from my door.” Jaskier spoke calmly. He really didn’t want to start a shouting match this close to evening.

Valdo sighed through his nose and moved away from the door.

“You’re making a mistake, Julian. You know you won’t be able to resist me for the whole semester. I know you, as much as I hate to say it.” Valdo snapped his notebook shut with one hand. Jaskier ignored him as he started to pull out his room key. He ignored him the best he could.

“It’s that Witcher, isn’t?”

Jaskier turned around sharply. “Excuse me?”

“That Witcher you’ve shallowed yourself low enough to hang around with. I know you’re a hopeless romantic, Julian, but even I know that Witchers don’t feel. You’re only setting yourself up to getting hurt. And when you do realize, you’ll come crawling back to me to get what you need.”

Jaskiers stepped away from the door and crowded Valdo against the far wall, his face dangerously feral, his teeth baring.

“You do not get to speak of him that way. How dare you even try to insinuate he is anything lower than the nobelest of men. Something the likes of you would never understand. Geralt and I are of no business to you. So, you’d best keep his name out of your mouth if you know what’s good for you.”

“Or what, Julian.” Sneered back. “You’re gonna sick your Witcher on me? Hit me with your lute you barely know how to play? Or how about send that old halfling after me? Hm?” Valdo lifted his head in a vicious turn and looked Jaskier straight in his eyes. “You’re not gonna do shit, Julian. Or else you risk being kicked out.”

Jaskier let in a sharp breath through his nose.

“That’s right. Master Rowan had to set you straight while everyone was leaving the meeting today to make sure you did not fuck up at his respected establishment. The only reason you have a place on the board is because you probably let half of the superiors fuck you into their sheets.” Valdo bared his teeth into a twisted smile.

Jaskier took a deep breath.

“You’re pathetic, Valdo.” He backed away and went back to his door. “Leave me alone.” Valdo was still up against the far wall by the time he opened the door. He didn’t dare turn his head as he shut the door. As soon as he locked it, he jumped back from the pounding on the wood.

“You’ll come crawling back to me, Julian! Doesn’t matter how long it takes, you’ll be coming back!”

“Screw you,” Jaskier exclaimed. He added, “And Zoltan is a dwarf!”

He heard a scoff behind the door and Jaskier’s anger started to recede. Jaskier laid his forehead against the wooden door, listening carefully for Valdo’s retreating footsteps. Once he knew he was gone, he let out a deep sigh and let the tension in his jaw lessen and his shoulders drop.

If he was drained during the meeting, he was bone-deep exhausted now. The sun was already setting but his mood wasn’t. No matter, no point in letting his hatred for Valdo and his audacity to ask for a quick fuck was going to ruin his night. He dropped his satchel down by his desk and went to collapse on his bed. He kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his doublet. It wasn’t too cold, so he was going to let himself get comfortable in just his undershirt. After a few more breaths, Jaskier got up to light the candles in his room before the light from outside totally disappeared. He was debating on what to do next as he lit the candles.

A bath seemed nice right now. With scented salts and flower petals and sweet-smelling oils.

And some company. Company with golden eyes and a rich voice. Jaskier let out a love-sick sigh as he lit the last candle that subsequently blew out the candle. He chuckled and lit it once more. He rolled up his sleeves and got started pumping water into the tub. When it was a reasonable height, and Jaskier had collected a bit of sweat on his brow (and let off a bit of steam from his encounter with Valdo), he worked up a gentle fire in an enclosed pocket under the tub. He closed the small metal door leading to the pocket to keep the smoke from entering the room and trapping the heat enclosed under the tub. He picked from a few bottles of oils and scattered a few petals into the water. Just as he thought the water was finally warm enough, he heard a knock at his door.

At this point, no one should be getting visitors.

The only one he could think of that would be visiting him this late would be Valdo.

He scrunched up his face and slipped his doublet off his shoulders and thrown it on the bed. He called behind him, “Fuck off, Valdo!” He was getting ready to unlace his trousers when he heard a voice that was definitely not Valdo’s.

“Well then, guess I’ll just take my Nilfgardian Wine and be on my way.”

Jaskier had never raced to the door faster, almost tripping over his own ankles. He swung open the door to reveal his dream come true. His knight. His muse. His Witcher.

“Geralt! What are you doing here?!” Jaskier all but pulled his smirking Witcher inside his room and shut the door behind him. Geralt stood confidently with his bottle in one hand as he looked at his disheveled bard. He let out a low chuckle as he was tackled by a pair of arms wrapping themselves around his neck and a body pressed against his. He wound his arms around Jaskier and hummed as they squeezed each other just the slightest bit tighter. They turned their heads at the same time to meet each other in the middle for a quick kiss.

Jaskier’s smile only grew.

“Well,” Geralt started, “That’s one hell of a ‘hello’”

“Oh, shut up.” Jaskier pulled his arms back to rest on his chest but remained in Geralt’s space. “What are you doing in Oxenfurt? Shouldn’t you be on your way toward Kaer Morhen for the winter?” Jaskier asked.

“Well, you see, I just happened to be in the area when I got word from a few barmaids that the famous ‘traveling bard’ had returned for a semester. I knew it was you but I just wanted to make sure.”

Jaskier didn’t believe him for a second.

“You just _happened_ to be in the area the night before my semester begins? Really? Have you ever been able to lie to me, Geralt? And with a bottle of wine that you know is one of my favorites and is not cheap? You must think me a fool, dear heart.”

Geralt chuckled again and leant into Jaskier’s space, his arms never leaving his waist and he rested his forehead against Jaskier’s. Jaskier laughed and wrapped his arms around his neck and rested his hands in his hair, pushing his fingers into the strands and running against the scalp. Geralt gave an appreciative hum in return to the affection.

“A man can try.”

Jaskier smiled even wider and brushed his nose against Geralt’s. Then it dawned on him his bath was waiting. He retreated from his embrace, taking the wine from Geralt. He turned around to inspect the date and raced to his side table to his wine opener.

“Well, since you came _all_ this way and brought such _fine_ wine, you might as well help me drink it. The glasses are in the cabinets above my desk.” Jaskier commented as he pointed toward his desk. He started working on uncorking the bottle as Geralt went to retrieve two glasses. He came back just as Jaskier uncorked the bottle and took a quick smell to the tip. He ‘mmm’ -ed.

“You really do know me, darling. Join me for a bath?” He gestured toward the steaming bath in the other end of the room. He could tell that Geralt did not come here after a contract but was probably still in need of a relaxing bath. Dirt and grime in general had a habit of sticking to Geralt on the Path.

“Can’t say no, can I?” Geralt asked teasingly as Jaskier began to pour the wine into their glasses.

“Of course not.”

Once poured, Jaskier brought the bottle and his filled glass over to the tub, gently placing both on the floor to disrobe. Geralt sat on the bed leisurely and took a sip of his wine, watching him. This was not the first time he had watched Jaskier undress and definitely not the most sexy but he enjoyed the process none the less. Jaskier caught his wondering eyes as he bent back up from dropping his pants and underclothes. He raised a teasing eyebrow and turned around, sauntered over to the man. Geralt grinned and took another sip of his wine.

“Make yourself useful and take off my socks since you’re so keen on eyeing me up like a sweet roll.” Jaskier said, lifting one pointed foot on Geralt’s thigh. Geralt exhaled through his nose and set his wine glass down on the bedside table. He put both hands on either side of Jaskier’s thigh and squeezed just the slightest as he moved them downward to his sock. He let his fingers reach around the calf to untie the ribbon holding them up. He pulled them off then in a slow motion, letting one hand cup the back of his calf. He slowly brought his head down to give his knee a kiss as he took the whole sock off.

He was rewarded with a weak _pop_ to the head.

“You are the biggest tease on this side of the continent,” Jaskier spoke a little shaken by the tenderness of Geralt’s movements. Geralt laughed against his knee before smacking his calf to move it off him. Jaskier did so and gave him the other foot. Geralt did not repeat his actions and quickly took this one off, though still gave his knee a kiss. Jaskier took back both legs and turned on the ball of his foot to move back to the tub.

“You need to get undressed if you wish to join me. And you are joining me.” Jaskier picked up his wine glass and gently lowered himself into the vat of steaming water. He could already feel the steam opening up the pores on his face. He took a sip of wine and made an appreciative hum.

“You really did get the good stuff. Gods, I am a lucky man.” He took another sip.

He did not need to turn his head to know Geralt was undressing, he could feel his looming presence behind him. If this were another scene, he probably would have turned around and sucked him dry before letting him enter the tub. But he needed his voice for lectures tomorrow and really didn’t want to mix the after taste of cum with his wine, so instead he scooted forward to make room for Geralt. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder for balance as Geralt glided in behind him, opening his legs wide to accompany the man between them. Settled, Jaskier leaned back on his chest and looked upward.

Geralt gave him a kiss to the temple and took a sip of his own wine.

Jaskier could not have asked for a better night.

“So,” Geralt began, “do I have to call you Professor Jaskier now?”

Jaskier gave into a joyous laugh and brought both his knees up to curl against Geralt.

“Depends on what kind of scene we want to set up for tonight.”

An arm wrapped itself around Jaskier’s torso to keep him in place against Geralt.

“But no,” Jaskier added. He took another sip and let his hand dip into the water to interlock their hands. “I don’t even think I want my students calling me that. I’ll most likely stay with Master Jaskier. Professor Jaskier will just be on paper for legal reasons and what not.”

“Hmm. You didn’t tell me what classes you’re teaching.”

“I didn’t?” Jaskier questioned. Usually he would have been all about telling anyone within ear shot what kind of professor he was, but he usually wasn’t running a cabaret while teaching either.

“Sorry, dear heart I suppose it must have slipped my mind. Well, this year I’m teaching two subjects, 6 classes total. Mostly juniors with a few seniors. Historical Implications in Poems and Courtroom Etiquette. Nothing too hard, I would say but fun classes with the right students.”

Geralt raised a brow at him.

“Courtroom etiquette? What will you be teaching, how not to get caught after seducing half of the lord’s court and employees?”

Jaskier slapped his shoulder. “Very funny, Geralt. No, I will be teaching how to greet lords, how to read the room, when it is your time and place to begin, how to dress, how the different fractions view respect. You know, people stuff. I’m good at that.”

“Well, can’t argue with that. You’ve always been good with people.”

Geralt took another sip of wine and grabbed Jaskier’s misplaced hand to interlock them again. Jaskier smiled and turned his head to kiss his pectoral. Geralt can be very needy when he wanted to be. Jaskier went to take a sip from his glass.

“Well, everyone expect Valdo Marx.”

He choked on his wine. Worried, Geralt set down his glass harshly against the floor and patted Jaskier on the back. He also took his glass away and set it down. Jaskier rubbed his throat as he cleared up his misguided sip. Of course, that name would come up tonight. He thought back to his interaction with him earlier today and scowled to himself.

“Are you ok?” Geralt asked as Jaskier stopped coughing. Jaskier cleared his throat once more and turned his torso around to calm Geralt. He placed his palms on his chest and pushed him back against the rim of the tub.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. See, nothing wrong. Still talking. In fact, could continue talking for the rest of the night if I so desired. Like about my employer or the history of the university or OH!” Jaskier cut himself off, “about my syllabus! Oh, it’s a good one I’ll tell you that. I –“ He was cut off against by a large hand covering his mouth.

Jaskier always forgot how much bigger Geralt was compared to the average man. Jaskier was no string bean little boy, Geralt was just a large man. He blushed at the stare he got from Geralt.

“You’re rambling.”

“Ah aways wam’le” Jaskier said. (I always ramble)

Geralt took his hand away and encircled Jaskier so he could not escape his space. Jaskier subconsciously turned on his side and let himself be cradled in Geralts arm and rested his head on his shoulder. He felt fingertips run down his spine and the sides of his arms. Jaskier could fall asleep in his embrace.

“Did something happen?”

And there it was. Jaskier dramatically sighed against Geralt’s neck, making him shiver.

“Reading me like a book, huh?” Jaskier let his finger tab aimlessly on his chest before sliding upwards to wrap around his neck, pushing his upper half out of the water and resting his head far enough on his shoulder so Geralt wouldn’t see his face. He knew better than to lie to Geralt but he didn’t want to ruin the tender moment they created. Being a person who loved to talk, Jaskier was also an expert on when not to talk.

Even if someone wanted him to.

“It wasn’t important.”

“It almost made you choke on your wine. Something happened. Did he hurt you?” He felt Geralt’s grip tightening around him.

Jaskier twirled a piece of hair between his fingers.

“No.” He answered quietly. He felt ashamed for ruining their night with his unfathomable hatred for Valdo.

Geralt let out and deep ‘Hmm’. “Did he say something?”

“Nothing intelligent enough to repeat.” Jaskier replied quickly. He pulled himself away from Geralt’s neck and pushed himself up, so he was looking down at Geralt. His hands rested on the tops of his shoulder and Geralt’s hands wrapped loosely around Jaskier’s waist.

“But it hurt you.”

Jaskier averted his eyes, his mouth turned down into a grimace.

“Like I said, it’s not worth repeating. He’s a stupid man with stupid ideas and a stupid voice that can’t carry with a stupid instrument he can’t play correctly. He’s a dunce with money.”

Jaskier closed his eyes and exhaled loudly through his nose.

“Let’s forget about him. Tonight’s about us.” He reopened his eyes and sunk back into the water, relaxing against Geralt once more. “Thank you for coming tonight. It means a lot to me that you came. You didn’t have to, though. I understand that our lives have very different paths and I’m willing to accommodate for that fact. You know that.” He rose his head up and gave Geralt’s neck a kiss.

“I love you.”

Jaskier felt the water shift around him as Geralt sat up in the bath and shifted him to also sitting up. He blinked at Geralt’s unreadable face. Then his felt his hands leaving Jaskier’s body and move to the chain of his medallion. He lifted it over his head and held it in front of Jaskier, wolf head gleaming in the candlelight.

“What” Jaskier stuttered, “what are you doing?”

Geralt averted his eyes back into the water before looking back at Jaskier’s unwavering eyes.

“I want you to wear this. At least until I come back to get you when the semester is over or when you want to give it back. Just, wear it for me,” after a thought, “please.”

Tenderness and awe were the only emotions Jaskier could identify as he looked at that medallion. The level of trust, earnest and real trust Geralt was showing him by giving his medallion was like being given the control over a whole kingdom. Jaskier didn’t know what to feel but he knew he had to react, as he was shocked still by Geralt’s request. He didn’t wish to spook the poor soul.

He lowered his head. He felt the cold metal glide by his ears and then rest on his neck. He lifted up to look Geralt in the eye, but Geralt wasn’t look him back in the eye. Geralt’s eyes were blown, pupils dilated wide and his expression soften. He was looking at the whole image of Jaskier, vulnerable, beautiful, and wearing a piece of Geralt. Jaskier could feel the weight of the wolf head resting against his chest. Every breath of air he took felt different, every slight movement felt purposeful. He felt like a piece of himself had just been created.

And all because of a piece of jewelry.

Two hands reached out to crowd Jaskier’s face, each hand gently cupping warm cheeks. Jaskier couldn’t suppress the toothy grin that developed or the water glint in his eyes or the joy bubbling in his chest. He let himself be dragged into a wonderful kiss, his hands gripping onto Geralt’s hands. He let himself be peppered with kisses as a giggle erupted from his throat. A stray tear ran down his cheek and Geralt wiped it away with his thumb.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

Jaskier had no further thoughts of Valdo and his cruel remarks. He let himself be swept away into the warm embrace of his lover, of his best friend. Their wine was slowly drunk, their bodies and hair scrubbed clean, and their sheets entangled around naked limbs. The only thing worn to bed was Geralt’s medallion, resting peacefully against Jaskier’s heart.

Geralt woke to a silently fretting Jaskier. With a comb in one hand and the other trying desperately to button his doublet. He could have lain there longer, watching him ‘tut’ around the room getting ready for his first day of classes, which started at sunrise, but he did have one last parting gift. He slowly rose, letting the thin sheet covering his torso slip down to the angle on his waist. He cracked his back, which alerted Jaskier that he was up.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear heart, did I wake you? Go back to sleep, I can wake you up when I leave. You need the rest if you wish to make it to Kaer Morhen in time for the first snow fall.” Jaskier, through his hustle and bustle, came over to Geralt to try and push him back down into the bed. But he wasn’t moving. Instead, he grabbed Jaskier’s wrist and pulling him to a kiss, which lasted longer than both of them intended but not unwanted. Jaskier pulled back with a _smak_ and smiled as Geralt followed his lips.

“And you call me the horn dog.” He straightened his back and pulled Geralt’s wild hair out of his eyes and brushed a few behind his ears.

“Because you are,” Geralt remarked, giving a surprising smack to Jaskier’s bottom.

A gentle pull of his hair was his punishment. “Tease. I have class to get to today. I can’t be late the first day of class, especially as the professor.” He walked back over to his vanity set and went about putting on the finished touches to his normal hygiene. A bit of lip balm for the chill in the air and a gentle cologne on his neck. He was already dressed; he had figured out his outfit a week in advance.

What can he say, he always got excited to teach.

All in all, he was ready to leave. Now he just needed to wait for the appropriate time to head to class and set up before actual class time. Jaskier checked his satchel once more, making sure he had enough copies of his syllabus, his notes, his class plan for today, a few coins for lunch. He was too distracted to hear Geralt getting dressed behind him until he had two hands on his shoulders, slowly rubbing the tension away. He dropped them the moment of contact.

“I know, I know. Stop stressing. The first day is always a little nerve wrecking, you know. I want them to like me so bad. I mean, I know they will but there’s always the off chance that they won’t. I just hate the idea of a student not liking me. I-“ He was spun around and cut off.

“Jaskier, they will love you. When do they not?”

Jaskier wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist and hugged him tightly but meaningfully.

“Ugh. I know. I just got to get through the first day then everything is a breeze afterwards.” A pause. “I’m going to miss you, you know that?”

Geralt’s arms wrap themselves tightly around his shoulders and rubbed them up and down to sooth them.

“I know.” A pause. “But you won’t be missing as much as usual, I think.”

Jaskier pulled away, looking Geralt in the face like he just said the stupidest string of words he ever heard, which he did. “What are you talking about?”

Geralt pulled away and reached into his pouch on his hip. Jaskier could see the tension in his hand as he pulled whatever it was out of it. Jaskier waited with batted breath. In Geralt’s hand was a crystal crow skull, hauntingly beautiful and shinned to perfection. It was a beautiful piece of craftmanship, but Jaskier was no fool. At least, not too much of a fool. He knew that skull belonged to Yennefer, or at least the aesthetic did. Jaskier looked back at Geralt a little confused.

“This is beautiful, Geralt, but isn’t this more of Yennefer’s style? Dear god, are you regifting me something she gave you? Did you steal this!? Geralt, I know Yen and I are friends but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t kill me if she found me with something of hers. I like to be on her good side.”

“Jaskier, shut up. I did not steal this nor am I regifting it. I,” Geralt averted his eyes to side, “I bought it from her and had her enchant it for a specific reason.”

“Such as?”

“Letter delivery.”

Then it clicked. And the water came right back into Jaskier’s eyes and a hand went straight over his medallion, a warm feeling spreading through his toes. Geralt had given him the means of communication over their separation.

“Did you get me a carrier crow?” Jaskier asked, completely full of adoration.

“I only got one, so we have to be careful with it. It’s designed to be able to fly long distances and through any kind of weather, we just need to find spots where the crow can land and dissipate without someone else getting our letters.”

Jaskier took the crow from his palm and held it to the light of a candle. It shone in beautiful rays of blue and purple and it was smooth to the touch. It was a solid weight, a good paper weight size, but it wasn’t clunky or gaudy. It was perfect. Jaskier threw himself at Geralt in a fit of laugher and smothered his face in playful kisses. Geralt returned the favor in one deep sensual kiss. One that makes you weak in the knees and a little light headed. When they pulled apart, Jaskier rested his forehead against Geralt’s and another fit of laughter left his throat.

“Thank you, my darling. This is a wonderful gift. You are so thoughtful. Now,” Jaskier pulled away, “teach me how to use this.”

For the rest of the early morning, Jaskier and Geralt leaned over the crystal and went through the procedures of turning it into a crow, where to tie the letter (or letters as Jaskier interjected), how much weight it can hold, how long it will take back and forth (Geralt guessed about two days but they’ll test that out once he is settled back at Kaer Morhen) and other small details. Jaskier was so distracted by the prospect of sending and receiving letters from Geralt during the fall that he almost missed his cue to leave. He still had a classroom to warm up and it’s awfully terrible teaching in a cold classroom.

“Shit, I got to go.” Jaskier said, going to grab his satchel until it was swiped from under his hand. Instead, he was given one gloven hand to hold as Geralt swung the bag over his shoulder. Jaskier reddened in the ears and picked up his lute. They left the room in compatible silence.

Jaskier kept looking over at Geralt, who was peacefully out of place in this big university.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just,” Jaskier paused, “I never had a university sweetheart. I was always the one holding other people’s books and instruments, never the other way around. Feels nice to be on this end. Thank you.”

He gave Geralt a chaste kiss to the cheek and walked in silence until he got to his classroom. Jaskier unlocked the door, never breaking from Geralt’s grip and walked into the medium sized lecture hall. He was definitely going to need to start a fire soon. Those old wooden seats were terrible when cold. But before he could even get started on that, he heard the sounds of wood blocks being placed in the hearth and a sign being used to light them. Geralt had taken initiative to start a fire.

Jaskier walked over to him to take his satchel off his shoulder and a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you. These lecture halls are dreadful when it’s freezing. Some classrooms can’t even be done if it’s too cold. Try strumming a lute when your heads are stiff from the cold. Ugh, terrible time.” He went to his desk and started taking everything out he was going to need for class. He started to hum, filtering through the classroom, straightening chairs, wiping off some dust with a spare rag if it didn’t meet up to his standards, and over all checking the room out. This was his Historical Implications class, so he didn’t have to move anything around unless he wanted study groups or group projects. When he came back down from the top of his classroom, he stood in the middle of it and turned to Geralt.

“Would you do me a favor?”

“Depends, what is it?”

“Could you sit at the top of the classroom and tell me if you can hear my voice?”

“I can always hear your voice. Enhanced hearing, remember?”

“Oh right. Well, do it anyway and just tell me if I sound like I’m shouting or something. That’ll probably be the right volume for human ears.” He tugged on his ear lobe for emphasis. And Geralt did just that, walking up the stairs and taking a seat at the top.

“Hello class! And welcome!”

“Louder!”

“HELLO CLASS!”

“Oh lord.” Geralt mumbled.

“I heard that, young man!” Jaskier yelled back at him. Geralt rolled his eyes.

“A little softer!”

Jaskier cleared his throat and projected his voice louder than the first but softer than the second.

“Hello class! And Welcome to Historical Implications in Poetry!”

“That’s good!” Geralt said back. Jaskier gave him a thumbs up. Geralt took that as his cue to come back down. He took two steps at a time so he can get to Jaskier quicker and stood right in front of him. Jaskier took that as his cue for a farewell hug and kiss. And he did just that, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and giving into the sweet kiss of a bittersweet farewell.

Their goodbye was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“It’s time,” Jaskier whispered.

“So it is.”

“Be safe, my love.”

“Always.”

And then Geralt left and Jaskier started class, the nervousness of before melting away as he remembered every face, every name, every character. He found out that he and Geralt did find the right volume for the classroom, which made Jaskier joyful. He was looking forward to this class and the next and the one after that. Each class that came held bright eyed students, deafferenting ideas, wonderful perspectives, and eye-popping aesthetics. His favorite part of teaching was the students and the potential they held.

But, of course, every day has its ending.

And his was beginning to look like de ja vu.

“What the fuck are you doing back here? I told you to fuck off, Valdo.”

Valdo, all cozied up back at his door with a smug smile and a more than revealing top on. This man just wouldn’t get the hint.

“Don’t be like that, Julian. You know I’m only offering a bit of physical pleasure. No strings attached.” Jaskier balled his fists in fury. If this was how his semester was going to be, sooner or later the university was going to be a professor short, or two if he had to make a run for it. But then something stopped him. The shifting of his shirt, the metal medallion moving against his skin. He didn’t feel as angry anymore.

He calmly walked over to Valdo. Valdo smiled, thinking he got what he wanted.

“See, that wasn’t so bad. Though, I will have to punish you for being so awful to me yesterday.” Jaskier’s eyebrow twitched but his smile never faltered. He got to his door, put a gentle hand on Valdo’s shoulder, and shoved him flat on his ass away from it.

“As if you could ever compare to the size, girth, and stamina of my Witcher’s cock. Now, take your pathetic limp dick away from me before I curb stomp your teeth into the ground. And before you think I’m scared of you telling on me to my superiors, remember that I’m the one in contact with not one, but four Witchers, two powerful sorceresses, a child of the elder blood, and some very loyal friends. Now go buy yourself a lady of the night and fuck off.” Jaskier opened the door, closed it, and locked it. He stayed silent as he heard Valdo retreat.

That night, Jaskier wrote two letters to Geralt. He wanted to give him time to get to the keep before sending them off. He laid in bed in his underclothes and fiddled with his medallion, falling more and more in love with the man of his dreams.

Couldn’t fall in love, bah!

Geralt knew how to love greater and louder than anyone he had ever known.

Jaskier fell asleep dreaming of their reunion.

**Author's Note:**

> Spare comment?


End file.
